“The tests were fine.” She sighed. “It’s all this that’s painful.”
It was so weird: All this time, I’d been wanting to find out more about her reasons for feeling the way she did about the lake. Now I kind of wished I’d stayed inside. But it’s funny how a moment can push you forward.
“Why did you stay away for so long?” Well, I was in it now. I thought of what Ben had said about the hurricane. All I could do was ride it out. “Everyone here only talks around it.”
“Because they don’t know.” She still had her gaze locked on the water, not looking at me. “The short version is that my father was no saint. Everyone else, especially my sisters, saw him differently. It made a lot of things complicated for me.”
Your grandpa sure had a temper. Among other failings,Kate had said.But you know about that from your mom, I’m sure.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “That must have been hard. To keep you away all this time.”
Her eyes filled with tears. Another first. I’d never seen my mother cry before.
“Cat?”
Kasey was coming down the steps. My mom cleared her throat, and like magic was fully composed again. “Yes?”
“William from the lawyer’s office is on the phone. He’s got a few questions about the contracts.”
“Right. Coming.”
Before she left, though, she glanced at me. As if I was the one who needed to be checked on.
After she headed up to the house, I heard clicking overhead. A pair of hummingbirds. By now I recognized their language, as well as the telltale buzzing as they passed by. I watched them, rising and falling in the air as they zipped toward the cabin. Kasey was out front, bent over a clump of pink flowers to the left of the steps.
“They’re hungry,” she said when I walked over. She had her head tipped back, looking up. “Even though I just filled the feeders yesterday.”
“I’d never seen one close up until now,” I said.
“Pretty cool, huh?” She smiled at me. “In some cultures, they symbolize ancestors. Others, warriors. I like to think they’re both.”
“Warrior ancestors?”
“What kind would be better?” She bent down, pulling a couple of drooping blooms from one of the plants. “I like the idea that one of them might be Mom, dive-bombing me because she disapproves of my mulch choice or how I’m pruning her roses.”
“Sounds like she had strong opinions.”
“Yep. I get it, though.” She grabbed a couple more flowers. “I mean, there’s a reason why we use the word ‘cultivate’ with plants. Really taking care of them is a process, not just about digging a hole and filling it in.”
“My stepmom grows sunflowers and tomatoes,” I told her.
“Both great,” she replied. “You gotta love an annual. Seed, sprout, plant, flower, done. Perennials take a bit more. But they give more, too. Year after year, if you treat them right.”
“Is that what these are?” I asked, nodding at the big bushy hydrangeas I’d noticed the first night I’d come over with Ben.
She looked over her shoulder. “Yep. In fact, that whole clump started from a single plant Mom put in when Aunt Charlotte passed. The first year they did nothing and she figured they were goners. But the following summer that one popped with blooms. It hasn’t stopped since.”
That made me smile. At least until I remembered the whole Tides-razing-the-land part. “I bet you’re sad about leaving them. When you move.”
“Of course. It stinks.” She squatted, poking her finger behind some daisies. A beat later, a little green frog hopped out, bouncing off into the grass. “Then again, nature is pretty resilient. If stuff can’t grow here, it will still find a way to do it. Just might take a little time. Like that hydrangea.”
Bzzzzzzz.We both looked up. More hummingbirds. Kasey yanked at a fluffy green plant, pulling it loose with a shower of dirt.
“What about the warrior ancestors, though?” I asked her. “What happens to them?”
“Oh, they’ll be fine,” she said. “They’ll just follow the flowers.”
It was a little after two a.m. when I opened my eyes. Not to a shame reel, as it turned out. But I did find myself wonderingif I’d made an appearance—via Visceral Pantylines—in Ben’s.
